


Clouds Cover The Sky, Tonight

by Glacial_guillotine



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Billy Hargrove Whump, Emotional Hurt, Gay Billy Hargrove, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing It Better, Late Night Conversations, On the edge, Panic Attacks, Whump, but they don't know it, just hurt, no happy ending, stranger things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glacial_guillotine/pseuds/Glacial_guillotine
Summary: A few minutes of silence passed easily as they stared out into the sky. Clouds covered the stars, but almost cinematically, the crescent moon peeked out from behind one.Steve decided to bite."Wanna... tell me what happened? Before you called?""No." It was harsh, grumbled, and the clearest he'd sounded all night."Alright." A moment."Just, if it's something with your family, with your dad-"Billy had stood up like a fire had been lit under him.--Steve gets a call at 11:30 at night, and soon he's abandoning his cold leftover Dominoes pizza to pick up a drunk Billy Hargrove. He didn't think he would end the night at an abandoned quarry with the guy almost tumbling over the edge of a cliff.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 1
Kudos: 91





	Clouds Cover The Sky, Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:
> 
> This story mentions period typical homophobia, as well as the implied abuse of a minor. It also involves underage drinking, and other sensitive elements some might find troubling. If anyone would EVER like someone to talk to, I am always available. Stay safe, kiddos :)

The phone ringing set his nerves on edge.

The night had begun with a few big circles around the neighborhood, stopping into a few parties here and there. Nothing too crazy, but. It was time to head home when he saw the pool in Stacy O'Healey's backyard.

Shivers ran up his back as he climbed into his car.

He had just flopped down on the couch with leftover pizza when his phone rang. Technically, it was the house phone, but his parents had used it a total of six times the entire time they had lived there. Said it was for telemarketers and spies.

So he lumbered up from his comfortable position and padded to the kitchen to answer, an olive dropping from his cold slice of Dominos.

\--

"Leave it, Max, is' fine..." 

"It's not Max, it's Steve." A pause. Billy's eyes were wide and uncertain as they rolled around the brown interior. "You're in my car."

"Why in the hell would I be in your car?" His slurred voice fell from his lips. 

Billy had called him. In the beginning, Steve heard breathy sounds from the receiver, and was close to hanging up when Billy finally mumbled his name. So there he had stood, piling Billy's drunken self into his car at 11:45 at night.

"Kiss it better, Harrington." He swung his arm around, and laughed, very nearly missing Steve's face. He continued to giggle. (Yes, Billy Hargrove was giggling in his passenger seat. They were friends now. Kind of.) That same hint of insanity shown through as he flopped his arm across his eyes.

"Oh my god, what did- what happened?"

"Drunk, n' go caught up in a fight, no big deal."

"A fight with who?" This had Billy sobering up fairly quickly. He struggled to sit up from his slumped position and pointed a shaky finger in Steve's direction, and some fire was beginning to burn behind his eyes. It was a look he hadn't seen directed at him in quite a while. And it was a little scary, to say the least.

"None'f your goddamn business."

"You're the one who called me!" Steve stepped on the gas. "To drag your ass back home... drunk!"

"M' not goin home."

"What do you mean you're not going home?"

A pause.

"Th' quarry."

For some stupid, idiotic reason, Steve had done just that. Maybe there was a part of him that liked the idea of seeing into Billy's mind, or some desire of his own for open air and trees reaching up to graze the moon.

He pulled into a parking spot.

Before he could even turn the key all the way, Billy's door swung wide open and he was tumbling out, curses falling from his mouth as easy as prayers fell from Steve's grandma's.

Steve sighed and got out of the car, walking around the back end to find Billy's face in the gravel. 

"Dude, you're so fucked up." He hauled the kid up to sit up on his now dust-covered tires, and could see the way his tongue worked against his cheek. His eyes were full of something, emotions clashing and fighting to come to the surface.

In that moment, Billy was so shitfaced that Steve thought he might actually hurt him. 

A few minutes of silence passed easily as they stared out into the sky. Clouds covered the stars, but almost cinematically, the crescent moon peeked out from behind one.

Steve decided to bite.

"Wanna... tell me what happened? Before you called?"

"No." It was harsh, grumbled, and the clearest he'd sounded all night.

"Alright."

A moment.

"Just, if it's something with your family, with your dad-"

Billy had stood up like a fire had been lit under him.

His face was red hot, sweat shining on his neck in the light of the moon, and Steve swore he never had seen him so angry. Or scared. They seemed to be synonymous when it came to Billy.

Steve's own eyes grew wide as he watched shaky hands transform into fists, and he understood now how the Greeks came up with gods of anger.

So he stood, silently, and watched how Billy stepped backwards, staggering back at the slightest motion.

"You don't, you don't get to talk!" He spit, face contorting in his blind rage, "You keep out of mY LIFE HARRINGTON, you hear me!"

"Billy-"

"No! No. You don't have the right." He was crying, angry hot tears pooling in his eyes so blue they outshone the brightest waters. "You don't have the fucking right to ask me about my own parents, when you're a fucking orphan!" He choked on his words half way through. "A goddamn orphan."

Steve stood quiet. He was shocked; it was true, what Billy was saying, but he didn't care. He hadn't since he was little, had gotten used to living by himself while they were away on business. He liked it. Preferred it that way.

He had told Billy such one night, late during a drive home from basketball practice.

Steve just stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head up to the sky.

"You're really drunk." He said. "And you're really close to the edge, literally, and figuratively. Why don't we just get back in my car! And you can sleep it off."

Billy twisted to see a unfenced cliff four feet or so behind him. Sharp rocks and tree limbs scattered the ground precariously, and with how much Billy was swaying, they could be deemed disastrous.

To Steve's horror, Billy started spinning, hips swaying, as he held his arms sloppily out to the side, middle fingers up. He started humming, a crazed lilt to the few lyrics that managed to slip out comprehensibly.

"Keep y' pretty head low, hmm... hmnm... Billy- Dun, duh - Don't be a hero!" As the end of the messy chorus came around, he started to laugh.

"You ever heard that song? No?" He laughed again, kicking some piece of glass off the side of the rocks. "She used t'sing that.. to me, y' know?"

His face crumpled and he cursed as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Billy..." Steve starts forward, and goes to set a hand on his shoulder when Billy swings a punch around so fast and hard he can't even see for a few seconds.

He stumbles back and presses a hand to his face -- "What the hell..." -- and he sees a bright smear of red across his palm and curses again.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Billy screams. It's hysterical, and he's breathing too fast, fingers trembling as nails rake at his own arms.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You're alright." Steve puts his hands in front of him when he sees the crescent indents turn bloody. "It's fine, I won't touch, I promise." His cheek throbs as he tries to force a calming demeanor.

"Don't fucking... oh, fuck, I-I can't do this. Fuck you, Harrington, fuck y-" He cut off in the middle, a deep breath pulled from the pit of his stomach. He bent over his stomach, a whine falling from his throat as he gasped.

"I can't fucking breathe," He exhales, panic seeping through his every molecule.

\--

"You can't keep going like this. It's eating you alive."

"It jus' hurts...hurts so god-goddamn much." Billy had his hands clenched in Steve's shirt as he twisted in the dirt, the light of the moon reflecting off the tears dripping down his cheeks.

How Steve ended up in this situation baffled him. He had planned on passing out on the couch watching some old movie his parents had hidden underneath the entertainment station, and now Billy was sobbing. In his lap. At midnight outside an abandoned quarry.

His cheek ached from where Billy had punched him, but when soft hair brushed his face his anger melted, and he slipped an arm around shaking shoulders.

"I can't... jus' I can't-"

Steve rubbed a hand up and down his shoulder blades, and gazed down to get a look at his face. It was red and blotchy.

"Can't do what, Billy?" He said softly.

"I try! I try to be good, really Steve, I try." His voice is chocked and muffled through Steve's chest. "But it's no good. He... he hurts me anyway."

Steve grasps onto him even tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Not really a happy ending, I know. But I wanted to end it there, so there it will stay.
> 
> This was done so quickly and on a whim and it was written a while ago and I KNOW ITS BAD I JUST WANTED TO POST SOMETHING so here it is. 
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
